Life ends, love is endless
by Jay Legion
Summary: Sherlock Holmes receives a letter from a Lady with whom he has been corresponding for five years by post. They have never met. All he knows is her name: Elizabeth. Until that one letter arrives that changes everything. K for now. May become Kplus at some point.
1. The letter that changed his life

"Sherlock? Sherlock, are you there?" John shouted as he walked up the stairs. He entered the flat. Sherlock was sitting in his usual chair with his violin on his lap, plunking a melody.

"Oh, hello John," he replied, "Give it to me."

"What? Oh, yes, there's a letter for you," John answered.

"I noticed. Hand it over," Sherlock said.

"Here," John threw the envelope in Sherlock's lap.

"Careful! It's important."

"How could you know that?" John asked a little surprised.

Sherlock did not reply. He examined the envelope and the address on it carefully.

"_Mr Sherlock Holmes_

_221B Baker Street_

_London NW1 6XE"_, the address read. Nothing less, nothing more, not even a reply-address on the back. Not that anything else was needed. Everyone knew his address and certainly the person who wrote this letter. Sherlock opened the envelope and read its contents.

"_Dearest Sherlock,_

_How are you? I haven't heard from you for a long time, as you haven't gotten any letters from me. I heard some strange things about you jumping off St. Bartholomew's roof, leaving a dead Moriarty behind, while a few years later you're alive and kicking–_

_Anyway, of course I didn't write you out of concern for you. You know I never do that. You wouldn't do anything like that for me either._

_No, something else has come to mind. A new puzzle if you will. This riddle, however, is nothing like the ones I wrote to you before about. This is no puzzle I can tell you every single detail of and you reply with the answer at turning mail. No, I need to _show_ this one to you._

_So I was wondering when and at what time I can come to London. I'll have to overcome my fear of big crowds and come to the biggest, busiest city of Great-Britain._

_But never mind that, it won't kill me. Please answer as soon as possible._

_I look forward to finally meeting you._

_Love, Elizabeth_

_P.S.: Could be a matter of life and death."_

Sherlock smiled. Finally, he was going to meet Elizabeth. They had been writing letters for quite a while now. It started five years ago, when she wrote him about a strange riddle someone had given to her. He gave the answer immediately and after that, she had written seven more letters. The last letter she wrote, was 2 years ago and he hadn't heard from her ever since.

That wasn't worrying or something, because she, as she had written in her letter, would only write him when she had a problem to solve. And finally, she had written a new letter, about a whole new problem she couldn't solve. Not even with his guidelines. This puzzle he would have to solve by himself.

_"At last_," he thought.

"Have you heard anything I just said?" John asked, slightly angered.

"Did you say something, then?"

"Yes, I just asked you five different questions!" John said angrily.

"Ask them again," said Sherlock calmly.

"Okay, I asked how you knew it's important, who wrote it, what he or she wrote, why you aren't replying and why you keep doing that," John said. Now he was very annoyed.

"Oh, well, listen then. I knew this letter is important, because I recognized the envelope and the handwriting. This letter is written by an acquaintance of mine, who would only write me when it'd be important. She wrote me about a riddle of hers and asked to come over. As for your last two questions, I didn't hear you and when I don't hear you, I don't reply. Apparently I do that a lot," Sherlock said without the slightest emotion.

"You're serious? Apparently you do that a lot?! Sherlock, you do that all the time!" John shouted, "You seriously do that constantly and I have had it!"

"Relax, John," Sherlock said calmly.

"No, I won't relax! I, you–" John was outraged.

"I said, relax, John," Sherlock repeated, 'I have been expecting this letter. This is a new case. I need a pen and paper. Oh, and silence."

John handed him a pen and a piece of paper.

"Why don't you text this woman?" John asked. He calmed down a bit.

"She doesn't have any range in her place," Sherlock replied.

"Where does she live then, in a forest?" John said. He smiled.

"Yes, she does. Sherwood Forest to be precise," Sherlock said without any sign of a smile.

"Oh, sorry…" John mumbled.

"Now some quiet would be marvellous," Sherlock said as he focused on his letter.

_"Dearest Elizabeth,_

_How nice to hear from you again. Of course you can come over._

_In fact, you can come any time and day you wish. If I am not home, you just tell Mrs Hudson you have an appointment with me and she'll let you in. She'll probably offer you a cup of tea while you're waiting. She makes a fine cup of tea, so no problem there. Your description of the riddle has truly piqued my interest. I look very much forward to finally meeting you and I can hardly wait to see and solve your riddle. Please don't take my excitement wrongly. I'm just thrilled to meet an interesting person such as yourself._

_Do not be afraid of London._

_Love, Sherlock_

_P.S.: Do come quickly. John doesn't believe I have more friends beside him_."

Elizabeth smiled as she read the last sentence. She grabbed her coat and walked downstairs.

"Raymond, I'm going to London. I won't return until tonight I think," she shouted.

Her little brother murmured an answer. Elizabeth opened the door of the garage and walked to her Ducati Multistrada 1200. It was a special edition with a less polluting engine, made especially for her. _"You're a filthy rich nature- and motorcycle-lover or not_," she thought. She also owned a special Harley Davidson Wide Glide, designed just for her.

She loved riding her motors. They gave her a certain feeling of freedom. She put on her motor suit and her helmet and drove off.


	2. Meeting her, her meeting everyone

**Here it is then, the second chapter. We will try to update more frequently, let's say every two weeks. Enjoy!**

Two or three hours later, she arrived in London. She searched her way through the busy streets of London. Then she got off her Ducati and took her helmet off. She looked around.

"So this is Baker Street," she mumbled, "And there is 221B."

She took the key out of her motor and took a breath. Then she walked to the door and rang the bell. She waited.

An elderly lady opened the door.

"Can I help you, dear?" she asked.

Elizabeth smiled. "You must be Mrs Hudson," she said, "Nice to meet you. But I have an appointment with Sherlock. Is he home?"

"I am sorry, dear," Mrs Hudson said, "He's not home. And I'm not sure when he'll return."

"Oh, that's okay," Elizabeth said, "He said I could wait in his flat."

"Oh okay," Mrs Hudson said a bit surprised, "Come on in then."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said and walked up the stairs.

She looked around in the flat. She picked up Sherlock's violin and played a few notes. Then she put it back again, leaving it exactly as she had found it.

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"No thank you, Mrs Hudson," Elizabeth answered.

She took off her motor suit, folded it up and put it in a bag. She stared out of the window, waiting, for the second time that day.

Only fifteen minutes later, a cab stopped in front of the house. Sherlock and John stepped out. Sherlock noticed the Ducati and looked up. Behind the window of his flat, he saw a young woman standing. They looked at each other. Neither of them moved an inch.

"Where did that motor come from?" John asked.

"Guest," Sherlock said, "And client."

"How do you know? John asked.

"I'm expecting someone," Sherlock said and opened the door.

"Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson called, "There's a young lady waiting for you upstairs."

"I know," Sherlock said, "Please make a big pot of tea for us."

"I'm not your housekeeper, dear."

Sherlock didn't respond and opened the door of his flat.

"Nice flat you're having," the woman at the window said.

"Thank you, Your Ladyship," Sherlock said.

"And I suppose you heard that by my voice?" the woman asked.

"Yes, but I also saw that by the way you're standing," Sherlock answered.

"I didn't know I had such a snobbish attitude," the woman smiled.

"No, but you do have an attitude of someone who is used to being higher in rank than others," Sherlock replied.

"Ah. I see. It's nice to finally meet you, Sherlock," the woman said. She was still staring outside.

Sherlock studied her appearance. She wasn't very tall, 5 ft, maybe 5 ft. 3. Her skin was slightly tanned and her hair was long and wavy in a strange blueish white colour, clearly not the original colour. She was wearing black sleigh heels from about two inches high and white jeans. She also was wearing a long sand-coloured coat. Obviously, she was hiding something, probably more than one thing.

"It's nice to meet you too, Elizabeth," he said.

"Wait, you're Elizabeth?" John asked.

"It's not very polite to read someone else's mail, you know," Elizabeth replied.

"No, I didn't read it," John protested, "Sherlock left his letter on the table to check something and I saw your name on it."

Elizabeth didn't reply. She stared outside. As Sherlock came closer, he could hear her heart beat racing. She was panicking.

Sherlock took a deep breath and dug for some humanity. Strangely enough, that didn't take so much effort.

"Elizabeth, listen to me," he said calmly, "You came here, you wrote me, because you needed my help. I want to help you. However, in order to do that, I need you to trust me. I need you to calm down and take a deep breath."

He heard her calm down. Then he continued.

"Do you trust me, Elizabeth?" he asked.

"Yes, I trust you," she said softly.

"Okay. You know who else is in this room. That's Dr Watson and Mrs Hudson. Do you trust John?" Sherlock said.

A long pause.

"Yes. I think I'll trust him," Elizabeth said.

"Do you trust Mrs Hudson?"

Elizabeth kept silent for a moment. Then she said, "Yes."

"Hey, why did you need so much more time to think for me?" John asked.

Elizabeth did not reply. She tried to keep herself calm. Sherlock continued to talk to her in a calming way.

"There's no one else in this room. You trust everyone here. You trust me, you trust John and you trust Mrs Hudson. Will you turn around?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and whispered, "Okay."

She started to turn around, very slowly. Suddenly the door slammed open and Mycroft Holmes came in.

"Sherlock, I need your help. It's important," he said.

"Can't you see I'm busy, Mycroft?!" Sherlock snapped.

Elizabeth had turned back and was hyperventilating.

"Now I have to start all over again. Thank you," Sherlock said angrily.

"How can she be more important than my matter?" Mycroft asked annoyed.

Sherlock didn't answer and turned his attention back on Elizabeth.

Then he said, "Elizabeth, listen to me. Focus on my voice. Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust John and Mrs Hudson?"

"Yes."

"And do you trust my brother Mycroft?"

"Not one bit."

"I thought so," Sherlock said, "Mycroft, please leave. Or if it's too important, go away as far as possible. This is simply a matter of trust."

Mycroft frowned and was about to say something, but then decided to do as his brother asked.

"Elizabeth," Sherlock continued, "Mycroft won't hurt you. He is still in this room, but as far away as possible. Will you turn around?"

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, but then she turned around. Two pairs of bright blue eyes stared into each other. Sherlock looked at Elizabeth's face. A white mask covered half of it.

Everyone looked surprised, but not Sherlock. He already knew there was something she was hiding. He took her hand and gently put a kiss on it.

"It's a pleasure and honour to make your acquaintance, my Lady," he said, "May I know your full name?"

Elizabeth smiled weakly. "Of course," she said and straightened her back.

"I am Lady Elizabeth Bennington, Baroness of Sherwood and the pleasure is all mine, Mr Sherlock Holmes."

"Why are you wearing a mask?" John asked surprised.

"Please tell us," Sherlock said gently.

"Did you say Bennington?" Mycroft suddenly asked curiously, "There's only one man I know with that name."

"That would be my brother, Lord Baron Michael Bennington. Please do give him my regards if you see him. I haven't seen him in months," Elizabeth confirmed. Mycroft nodded.

Then Elizabeth sighed and said, "If you really want to know what happened to my face, I'll have to show you. In that case, I suggest Mrs Hudson takes a seat or something, 'cause my face is quite shocking. Are you sure you want to see it?"

Everyone nodded and Mrs Hudson took a seat as requested. Carefully Elizabeth hooked her fingers behind the mask and took it off. Mrs Hudson fainted. Both John and Mycroft whispered, "Oh my God." Sherlock didn't say a thing. He looked closely at the mask.

"Gecko?" he asked. Elizabeth nodded. Sherlock held out his hands.

"May I?" he asked. Elizabeth immediately understood he wanted to examine her face. It looked like the disfiguration of Erik from '_The  
Phantom of the Opera_'

"Yes, but careful. Pressure hurts," she said. Sherlock nodded as he went with his fingers over her face. Sometimes she groaned and Sherlock mumbled an apology. Then he found a tiny horizontal scar right under her right eye.

"Who did this to you?" he asked.

"My brother," Elizabeth answered.

"Lord Michael did that?" Mycroft asked surprised.

"No, not Michael. I also have a younger brother, Raymond. He did this to me," Elizabeth explained.

"How much younger?" John asked.

"Two minutes and thirty-five seconds," Elizabeth said, "Sherlock, can I have my mask back? I'm feeling a little exposed."

"Sure. Let me put it back on your face," Sherlock said.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, "Here, I always have a spare in my pocket. Keep it."

"Thank you very much, my Lady," Sherlock said.

In the meantime, Mrs Hudson had gained consciousness again. Elizabeth walked to her and apologized for the shock. Sherlock studied the mask and then put it next to the skull on the mantelpiece.

"So what about that riddle of yours?" he asked Elizabeth.

"Oh yes, of course. Dr Watson?" she said.

"Please, call me John," he said.

"Okay, John, could you please help me with my coat?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, of course," John said and helped her. Then she turned to Sherlock.

"This is the riddle I can't solve," she said.

She was wearing an opal blue silk shirt with wide gaze sleeves in a slightly lighter blue. Around her waist was a belt. To that belt, a bomb was attached.

**So this is the second chapter! We basically hope you like it and please, fav/follow and R&R.**


	3. The Bomb

**We are absolutely thrilled to see how many people read our stuff! Please write reviews as well, reviews make our day. ^-^ They might also make us update more frequent... Anyway, here's the new chapter. Enjoy!**

"It's a temperature-bomb. It reacts to my skin temperature. Any higher or lower and it goes off," she said.

Sherlock took a close look and nodded then.

"The tools I need for this I left at Saint Bart's. Shall we go there?" he said.

"Okay," Elizabeth said and put on her coat again.

"Oh wait. Mycroft, you said you had some important matter?" she asked.

"Your life is more important, Your Ladyship," Mycroft said.

"No, no, I insist. Tell me," Elizabeth said.

Mycroft hesitated until he saw Elizabeth's piercing gaze. He sighed. She wasn't someone you could say no to.

"Okay then. There is a kidnapper active. He or she kidnaps young children. By now, this kidnapper has abducted seven boys and five girls from Chelsea and Westminster. We don't have any leads. We don't know what he wants or where he'll strike next. We are pretty much desperate," Mycroft said.

"I think you'll find her soon. I have a certain feeling about this. Your nightmare will come to an end within days," Elizabeth said.

"You think so?" Mycroft asked confused.

"Yes. But we must go, Sherlock," she said.

Sherlock nodded and they left the flat. Sherlock called a cab and they went to St. Bart's.

"There we are," Sherlock said, "Here, give me your coat. If you'll lie down on that table, then I'll get my stuff."

Elizabeth nodded and did as he said. Then Sherlock went to work. Minutes passed as he tried to figure out the bomb's mechanism. Suddenly he knew how to defuse it. Quickly he disarmed the bomb and took the belt off. Elizabeth sighed with relief. Sherlock helped her off the table and smiled at her.

"That was a tough one," he said. Elizabeth nodded. Then her phone rang. She answered it.

"Yes? … Uhûh… Yeah, he's here… Sure." She handed her phone to Sherlock. "It's Raymond. He wishes to speak with you."

Sherlock nodded and answered the phone.

"Sherlock Holmes. … Yes, most interesting. … Just a little sick though. … Why would you do something like that to your own sister? … Oh yes, that feeling is known. … Goodbye."

He handed the phone back to Elizabeth and smiled grim. Then Molly came in.

"Oh, hello. I didn't know you were here," she said. Sherlock looked up.

"Who's that?" Molly asked, nodding at Elizabeth.

"This is Lady Elizabeth Bennington, Baroness of Sherwood," Sherlock said, "Elizabeth, this is Molly Hooper. She works here at the morgue."

"Nice to meet you," Elizabeth said reserved.

"Nice to meet you too," Molly said a little nervous.

"We have to go now," Sherlock said, "Come, Elizabeth."

He held the door open for her and they left the room, leaving behind a most nervous Molly, who wanted to ask a whole lot more questions.

"Let's have tea somewhere," Sherlock said and Elizabeth agreed. In a small café, they sat down and ordered a pot of tea.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'd like to know how you decided to trust me," Sherlock said.

"Oh," Elizabeth said, "Okay, I'll try to explain. You know that everything and everyone has a certain energy, which radiates out of us. It shows our emotional state and our personality. There are some people who can see this energy with all its colours. I am one of them. This energy is called an aura and I can read it."

"Aha. So tell me, what do you read in my aura?" Sherlock asked.

"Okay, well, let's see," Elizabeth said and studied Sherlock's aura, "I see a great deal boredom, mixed with curiosity. It's an odd kind of curiosity, though. You're not very good with people and you don't have many friends. You have sort of friendly feelings for a man I don't know. You like and dislike your brother, you are very fond of John and Mrs Hudson and you have strange feelings for two, maybe three, women. You love tea and playing the violin and somehow you enjoy pissing people off. Oh, and you have a smoking problem. And that's just the surface."

"That is absolutely spot on. So you saw what I am like and decided to trust me, based on that," Sherlock said, "Shall I now tell you what I see on you?"

"Oh please," Elizabeth smiled, "Enlighten me."

Sherlock smiled and studied her appearance.

"I already knew you were a Lady before you told me. You try to like your brothers, both of them. Even though your elder brother doesn't want to be seen with you, because he's 'ashamed' of you. And even though your younger brother made a cut in your face with a knife that was infected with a flesh-eating bacterium and everything else he has done to you. You don't like people and you are very afraid of gossiping. You're lonely; you love animals, nature and music. There is some fur of many different animals on your pants. You're very smart, maybe even highly gifted. You love motors. Oh, and you have written a lot in Arabian recently," he said.

"You're spot on," Elizabeth smiled, "but how did you know about the Arabian?"

"Oh, that was obvious. I could read your letter from left to right, but the words were each written down from right and left," Sherlock explained.

"Obviously," Elizabeth said, "My brother scarred me when we were seven years old. The day before, I had broken his favourite toy. This was his way of punishing me. But somehow, he does seem to know guilt. He has bought a mask from every country we have visited and he designed and made this mask. He is also responsible for my current hair colour. And you were right: I am highly gifted. Both my brothers too. Michael is a social and political genius. He can manipulate everyone and everything. Raymond is a scientific genius. If there is anything mechanical or scientific to something, he knows all about it.  
However, he also has an evil twitch. He likes hurting people and animals. The result of that you can see on me. I myself know everything about nature, history and geography. I can play most music instruments and I speak most languages existing, including ancient and fictitious languages. Recently, I have read many Arabian poems and verses to write a proper letter to an acquaintance that lives in Saudi-Arabia. So you were right, obviously."

Sherlock smiled and the rest of the afternoon, they talked about all sorts of things. Then Sherlock's phone rang. He answered it.

"Sherlock Holmes. … Yes, of course. I'll be right there. … No, but I'll bring an expert." Then he hung up.

"How about helping me solving a crime?" he asked Elizabeth.

She smiled. "I'd love to."

After paying for the tea, they called a cab and left for the crime scene.

**And that's it for today. We hope you enjoyed it! Please fav/follow and review. Especially review. ^-^ Thanks! :D**


	4. Their first case

**So then, we thought, let's post a new chapter for the new year. And here it is. We hope you'll enjoy reading it, and as usual, please fav/follow and review. Thanks! And a happy New Year! :D**

At the same time as they arrived, John stepped out if another cab. Sergeant Donovan was waiting for them next to a police car.

"Hello freak. Dr Watson. Who's that?" she said.

"I said I would bring an expert," Sherlock said and they walked to the body. Inspector Lestrade looked up.

"Glad you could make it so fast," he said, "Who's that?"

"I said I would bring an expert," Sherlock repeated, "This is Lady Elizabeth Bennington, Baroness of Sherwood. She's an expert on biology. Elizabeth, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"It's an honour to make your acquaintance, Your Ladyship," Lestrade said.

Elizabeth nodded politely and then said to Sherlock, "Tu sais je ne vais pas parler avec quelqu'un je ne connais pas."

Sherlock nodded, "Je sais. Tu n'as pas à. So what have we got, Lestrade?"

"Dead woman. She looks a bit odd, though," Lestrade said.

"I'll be the judge of that," Sherlock said.

"Any ideas?" Lestrade asked.

"Seven so far. Maybe eight," Sherlock said, "John?"

John kneeled down and examined the body.

"Time of death is approximately eight hours ago. No signs of alcohol or drugs. She has been strangled and stabbed after that," he said, "I can't make anything of those leafs and that mud though."

Elizabeth looked at the dead woman. She was dressed as a wealthy businesswoman. Bruises in her neck indicated that she indeed had been strangled and a bloody wound in her chest marked the place where she had been stabbed shortly after the strangling. There were exactly twelve leafs in her hair and the bottoms of her shoes were covered with mud.

Sherlock put his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. She looked up.

"So what do you think?" Sherlock asked.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and kneeled down.

"She was rich; whatever business she was in, was running well. She wasn't a very nice person though. Her aura still radiates negative energy. She was stabbed after being strangled, probably to assure her death. Those leafs are no coincidence either. If you're a businessperson, you make sure you look properly. She doesn't look proper at all."

She picked up the leafs one by one, gave them a close look and sniffed at them. Then she took some mud from both the shoes and gave that the same careful examination.

Then she said, "This is Mycroft's kidnapper."

Sherlock nodded, "So far so obvious."

"What?" Lestrade asked confused, "How did you come to _that_ conclusion?"

"Let me explain," Elizabeth said seemingly calm, "These leafs are young and they have been plucked in two different ways: five without a stem and seven with a stem. They represent the five girls and seven boys who have been kidnapped recently. Why? Because the mud on her shoes is from Chelsea and Westminster. She didn't step in the mud; she was a careful person who made sure she wouldn't leave any traces. The mud has been smeared on them. Someone who apparently has found out about her plans and disagreed has silenced her.  
As for this little seed," she said as she held something up, "This was to make sure someone like Sherlock or me would get involved. That didn't really work though. None of you police officers even noticed it."

Sherlock grinned.

"What is it?" Lestrade asked.

"A cultivated bonsai-seed. There have been developed methods to change the shape of the seed before it has even grown. Now this is a piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Did you find any others?"

"I did," Anderson said.

"Finally there's some use to you, Anderson," Sherlock said.

Anderson gave him an angry look and handed the bag of seeds to Elizabeth. She quickly solved the puzzle and a text appeared.

_"This is the kidnapper from Chelsea and Westminster._

_ For her crimes she has paid with her life._

_ The children have returned home safely_," John read.

"Brilliant. Now we have a murderer on the loose," Lestrade said.

"No. He'll turn himself in soon enough," Sherlock said casually.

"He?" Lestrade asked.

"Isn't that obvious?" Elizabeth asked, "This is clearly the handwriting of a right-handed man in his 40s, with a huge sense of guilt."

"Oh, great. Now we have two freaks," Donovan said.

"And what makes you think that I am willing to help you?" Elizabeth said angrily, "I am here because Sherlock asked me to. If you think that I am a freak, you clearly haven't met my brother! Besides, if I am a freak, than what does that make you? Normal? A freak? Or worse?"

Sgt Donovan didn't know how fast to apologize, but Elizabeth ignored her. She turned to Sherlock.

"We have solved the crime. Can we go now? I'm getting very nervous with so many people around," she said. Sherlock nodded.

"Lestrade, text me when you have our murderer. I'd like to have a few words with him," he said. Lestrade nodded.

As Elizabeth and Sherlock walked away and called a cab, Sherlock laughed.

"That was a personal record," he said, "I have never solved a crime so fast before. Thank you. You are truly amazing."

A cab arrived and they stepped in.

Elizabeth smiled. "I'd love to do this all the time, I really do, if I wouldn't be so afraid of people and crowds," she said.

"Yes, that's indeed a big draw-back," Sherlock nodded. Then he wrote something on a piece of paper.

"Here's my phone number. Call me whenever you need me," he said, "I will come and help you in any way I can."

The cab stopped at 221B Baker Street. They stepped out. Elizabeth walked to her Ducati and put on her motor suit.

"Until the next time, then," she said. Sherlock smiled.

"Indeed, until the next time," he said.

Then Elizabeth put on her helmet and drove off, just as John arrived.

"And you couldn't just wait for me?" he asked, "Is she gone already?"

Sherlock smiled. "Yes, it's a long ride and the night can be full of danger."

They went inside and went on with their usual business. John worked on his blog. He had a new story to write: "_Genius number 2, the woman who equals Sherlock Holmes"_. Sherlock was reading a book on ancient cultures. He looked up and saw the title of John's new story. He grunted.

"What?" John asked.

_"The woman who equals Sherlock Holmes_?" Sherlock asked, "Seriously?"

"I thought it was quite a good title," John said a little offended.

"It's incorrect," Sherlock said, "She has a totally different skill set. And she's afraid of people. I'm not."

"You just don't want to admit that there exists a woman who is just as smart as you," John said, "And you don't want to admit that you like her."

"What? Nonsense," Sherlock said.

"Okay, let's stop talking about it," John said.

"Fine," Sherlock said and focused on his book.

**And that's all for today. We hope you enjoyed it! Please fav/follow and review. ^-^ Thanks! :D**

**NB. This story takes place long after the fall, so yes, Mary will be mentioned at some point.**

**P.S. The two French phrases translate as following: Elizabeth: 'You know I'm not going to talk to someone I don't know.' Sherlock: 'I know. You don't have to.'**


	5. The Fire

**So then here's a new chapter for you all. We hope you'll enjoy reading it, and as usual, please fav/follow and review. Thanks! :D**

Weeks passed, as they didn't hear a thing from Elizabeth.

"You heard anything from Elizabeth recently?" John asked one day. Sherlock looked up from his laptop.

"What?" he asked.

"I asked whether you had heard something from Elizabeth recently," John asked.

"No, I haven't," Sherlock said, "Why do you ask?"

"I was curious," John said. Then Sherlock's phone rang. He looked at the screen.

"Hmm, speaking of the Devil," he said and then he answered his phone.

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Sherlock, it's me. I need you," Elizabeth said on the other end of the line.

"Of course. What's the matter?"

"The forest! It's on fire! Please, you've got to help me!"

At that moment, Sherlock felt something change for good inside of him. She needed him, not his help, not his expertise, but HIM. And he was going to be there for her.

"Of course. I'll be there as soon as possible, don't you worry."

"Okay," Elizabeth sniffed, trying not to burst out in tears again.

They both hung up and Sherlock stood up. He grabbed his scarf and coat and walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Sherwood Forest," Sherlock said, "Elizabeth needs me. It's probably on the news by now."

Then he walked out of the door and took a long-distance cab, leaving a confused John behind.

Three hours later, he arrived at the Bennington mansion. The fire fighters first refused to let him through, but after Sherlock explained the Lady had requested his presence, they let him pass.

As soon as she saw him, Elizabeth ran towards him, her cheeks wet with tears. She almost flew into his arms and Sherlock caught her and put his arms around her, while he tried to comfort her.

"It's alright, I'm here. Just throw it all out," he whispered, "I'm here for you and I won't leave you. Everything is going to be fine, Elizabeth, trust me."

"All the animals are okay, Sherlock, but the trees, the plants!" Elizabeth cried, "I can hear them scream, Sherlock. I can feel their pain, their agony! And it hurts so bad!"

"I know, I know," Sherlock said soothing, "It is awful. But they will be fine. After a fire, the ground is so fertile. It won't take long for the forest to rally."

"I know. Of course I know that," Elizabeth cried, "But that doesn't take away any of the pain right now."

"Of course not," Sherlock said calmly, "But it will later. Let's go inside now. You need rest. A cup of tea perhaps?"

He gently brought her to the door of the mansion, where an old concerned butler was waiting.

"Thank goodness you're alright, my Lady," he said, "You must be Mr Holmes. Thank you ever so much, sir. My name is Edward Dunes. I am the family's butler."

Sherlock smiled briefly. "Could you make a pot of tea for us, please?"

"Oh, are you staying then?" Edward asked.

"Yes. I need him," Elizabeth said.

"As you wish, my Lady," Edward said, "Where will you have your tea?"

"In my library," Elizabeth answered and she and Sherlock went inside. She showed him around, pointing out her brothers' wings of the mansion, and then her own, with her bedroom, bathroom, dining room and many other rooms. Then they entered the library.

Sherlock's mouth fell open.

The room was a large oval. The walls were filled with bookcases, of which each bookshelf was filled with books and scrolls, all of them first press. Some of them were ancient, others rather new. The left wall was filled to half with books about nature, biology, history, geography, archaeology and so on.

The other half of that wall was filled with music: books about music, CDs, LPs, music sheets and much more. In front of that part of the room there was a music stand and on the floor there lay a violin in its case, but ready to play. In the middle was a large window and in front of that were an elegant chair and a matching desk, filled with pieces of paper and all sorts of random stuff.

The other side of the room was filled with books about random subjects. There was for example an ancient Latin bible, a Magna Charta, an ancient Codex and even a Koran and Torah-scrolls. An enormous amount of both literature and lecture filled the rest of the space. Several scrolls filled one shelf entirely. They appeared to be ancient. In the middle of the room were two big lazy chairs and a low tea table. Sherlock walked around in awe, picking up several books and scrolls and reading them, or at least, trying to.

"These scrolls, where do they come from?" he asked.

"Alexandria," Elizabeth said, "They're probably from the legendary library. They are originals; that's for sure."

"Amazing, truly amazing," Sherlock said, "And all these books, they're originals too?"

"Of course," Elizabeth said, "I don't settle with any less."

Sherlock smiled, "You seem to do much better now."

"No, that's just the surface," Elizabeth said murky and sat down in one of the lazy chairs. Sherlock walked to the window and looked outside.

"What a view you have here," he said.

"Yes. It's nice to sit there and stare outside while writing letters," Elizabeth said.

"I agree," Sherlock said while he sat down in the other chair, "This place is fantastic!"

"Thank you," Elizabeth smiled.

Then Edward came in with the tea.

"Will you be staying for dinner, Mr Holmes?" he asked.

"That will depend on Lady Elizabeth entirely," Sherlock said.

"I would like that very much," Elizabeth said softly.

"Very well, my Lady," Edward said and left.

They sat there for a while in silence, nipping tea and chewing biscuits. Sherlock looked at the books. Suddenly he kept staring at one of them.

"What's that?" he asked.

"What's what?"

"That book."

"Which one?" Elizabeth asked, while she turned half around.

"That one. 'Codex Gigas'?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, have a look, I'd say," Elizabeth said, "Don't read it out loud, though. Does strange things with the light."

Sherlock stood up and took the book from its shelf.

"The Devil's Bible…" he whispered.

"The original one. With all the pages," Elizabeth said.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.

"Several copies have been made, but with some crucial pages missing. This one is complete," Elizabeth explained,  
"I bought it in Prague."

"Impressive," Sherlock said. Then he noticed something else.

"What's that switch behind the Codex?" he asked.

"Push it," Elizabeth said. Sherlock did as she said. Suddenly the doors locked themselves and two bookcases split apart, revealing another bookcase behind them. This one was filled with dictionaries. There was one of every language ever existing, even of fictitious languages, like the Elvish, Dwarvish and Orkish from J.R.R. Tolkien's books.

"How did you get those?" Sherlock asked, pointing at the Tolkien dictionaries.

"By writing a kind letter in Sindarin Elvish," Elizabeth smiled.

"And the doors locked because no one may know about all this, I assume," Sherlock said.

"Of course. I write my diary in the language of Mordor. Michael can't read it and neither can Raymond. I'd like to keep it that way," Elizabeth said, the smile still present on her face.

"Obviously," Sherlock said. He smiled too. He closed the bookcases again and put the Codex back. They returned to their tea and chatted about all sorts of things, just to distract Elizabeth from the fire outside.

**After this, it gets romantic. We're afraid we're not the best romance-writers in the world, but we hope it'll please you guys anyway... ^-^ We hope you enjoyed it! Please fav/follow and review. ^-^ Thanks! :D**


	6. Decision of trust

**So then here's a new chapter for you all. Sorry for the lateness. We have been very busy... At any rate, we hope you'll enjoy reading it, and as usual, please fav/follow and review. Thanks! :D**

Many hours later, after dinner, the fire was finally extinguished. Elizabeth walked outside, bare-footed and maskless, dressed in nothing but a torn t-shirt and some white baggy jeans with a greyish army print on them. Sherlock followed her from a small distance, watching her every move.  
Soon all kinds of animals came to her, each talking in its own language. Nevertheless, Elizabeth understood it all and even talked back. She asked the animals whether they were alright, which they all seemed to confirm. There was even a young wolf that enthusiastically licked her hands.

"Hey Duke," Elizabeth said with a smile, "How are you, boy, are you okay? Yes, I've missed you too…. Sherlock would you like to meet Duke?"

Sherlock looked a little confused.

"Duke? That wolf, you mean?" he asked, "Sure."

He walked towards them and kneeled down next to Elizabeth.

"Just hold out your hand and hold still," she said.

Sherlock did as she said and Duke sniffed at his hand. He hesitated for a moment, but then he licked Sherlock's hand.

"He decided to trust you," Elizabeth smiled.

"Just like you," Sherlock said softly. Elizabeth looked up at him. They stood up simultaneously, still looking in each other's eyes. Sherlock wiped some hair out of her face and took her hand.

"When you… called me…" he said, "I felt something change inside of me. I felt something change for good. I felt needed. For the first time in my life, I felt truly needed. It felt good."

"I did need you," Elizabeth said, "I still do."

Sherlock did not reply. Instead, he moved his hand from her hand to her waist. Gently he pulled her close. Elizabeth placed her hands on his chest and plucked some things of his jacket. With his other hand, Sherlock caressed her face. They looked each other in the eyes and smiled.

Then Sherlock tenderly placed his lips on hers and kissed her. For a moment, Elizabeth did not respond. Then she answered his kiss and put her arms around his neck. Everything around them seemed to disappear. It seemed as if they, for a moment, were alone on the world, having nothing but each other.

Seconds passed, but seemed like ages. When they finally let go of each other, Elizabeth laid her head on Sherlock's chest. He put his arms around her and placed little kisses on her head, forehead and nose. He whispered sweet words in her ear to make her smile.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Elizabeth whispered back.

For a while, they just stood there, doing nothing else than embracing each other.

"Shall we go back?" Elizabeth asked when they finally let go of each other.

"Yes…" Sherlock said, "but I am not going to keep this from John, you know. As soon as I get back to London, I will tell him. I will tell John that we're a couple now."

"That's okay," Elizabeth said, "Do you want me to be with you when you tell him?"

"Yes, please."

They walked back to the mansion, holding each other's hand. Elizabeth began humming a song. It sounded quite good. Sherlock looked up.

"What are you humming?" he asked.

"Oh, one of my favourite songs," his girlfriend said.

"Which song is it?"

"It's called 'Arms' from Christina Perri."

"Can you sing it for me?" Sherlock asked hopefully.

"Of course," Elizabeth said, gently smiling and then began to sing,

_"I never thought that you'd be the one to hold my heart_

_But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start_

_You put your arms around me and I believe that it's easier for you to let me go_

_You put your arms around me and I'm home_

_How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around?_

_I can't decide if I'll let you safe my life or if I'll drown_

_I hope that you see right through my walls_

_I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling_

_I'll never let a love get so close_

_You put your arms around me and I'm home_

_The world is coming down on me and I can't find a reason to be loved_

_I never want to leave you but I can't make you bleed if I'm alone_

_You put your arms around me and I believe that it's easier for you to let me go_

_I hope that you see right through my walls_

_I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling_

_I'll never let a love get so close_

_You put your arms around me and I'm hoooome…_

_I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth_

_And I've never opened up, I've never truly loved, 'till_

_You put your arms around me and I believe that it's easier for you to let me go_

_I hope that you see right through my walls_

_I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling_

_I'll never let a love get so close_

_You put your arms around me and I'm home_

_You put your arms around me and I'm home"_

"You indeed have a beautiful voice," Sherlock sighed.

Elizabeth smiled a bit shy. She wasn't used to people giving her compliments.

When they reached the door, a black Mercedes arrived. Elizabeth sighed and let go of Sherlock's hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"That's Michael. He decided to show some 'concern'."

"He's a little late with that," Sherlock said.

Elizabeth shrugged and walked to the car. Michael stepped out.

"Hello sister dear," he said.

Michael looked a lot like his sister, but he was taller, had black hair and his blue eyes were cold and calculating. He was wearing a very expensive grey suit and black gloves and shoes. Also, he had a cane of ebony with a bone handle, carved in the shape of a lion's head. But still he radiated a certain charisma that made most people adore him.

"Hello Michael," Elizabeth said calmly, "Decided to show your human side to me?"

"Hardly," Michael replied, "I just hoped the fields and the mansion were okay."

"They are. I am fine too, thanks for asking."

"Of course. I'll return to London at first light tomorrow," Michael said.

It was not clear whether he had noticed his sister's sarcasm or not.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"This is Sherlock Holmes," Elizabeth said. She looked at Sherlock. He nodded almost invisibly.

"My boyfriend," she added while grabbing Sherlock's hand.

**So that's our romance for you... ^-^ We hope you enjoyed it! Please fav/follow and review. ^-^ Thanks! :D**

**NB. If you guys would like to read fics based on other stuff, tell us and we'll see what we can do for you. It'll still be OC, but that's merely because we don't write anything else...**


End file.
